


I'm a Top!

by Alathe



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Light Bondage, M/M, Shibari, Top Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:55:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alathe/pseuds/Alathe
Summary: What happens when a bored, switchy bard ties up our favorite witcher?  Read on.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 167





	I'm a Top!

**Author's Note:**

> Not Beta Read
> 
> Feel free to suggest tags, I'm not used to them yet.

The first time had been almost a grudge fuck, the second was spurred on by a wrestling match, which of course the silver-haired man had won. Then sweet tender moments. while bathing the Witcher's wounds after battle. Geralt always taking the lead, always having the final say in the bedroom (or bedroll, as it often happened), sometimes gentle, sometimes rough. Jaskier loved that, but he was used to being in control sometimes too, and Geralt wasn't letting that happen. Admittedly, he loved it when Geralt used him, or pinned him down and pleasured him. He couldn't get away from the big man's grasp, even if he wanted to. But playing only one way was getting boring. And there was little that annoyed Jaskier more than being bored.

Over the next few weeks, Jaskier hatched a plan. It would have to be in the city, where they felt safe, he wanted as little distraction for his white wolf as possible. Then it was time. They had a nice room in a small tavern, in a little tiny town, and as it had been a while since their last romp, he knew Geralt would initiate, probably as soon as the door was shut. Sure enough, the door had barely closed, before the big man grabbed him for a kiss. Jaskier tugged on fastenings of the black shirt, and the white-haired man quickly stripped, the bard following suit. More kisses. When Geralt started to press hard, and Jaskier knew he was fully committed, he stopped.

"Wait. Geralt, wait." Golden eyes peered down at him, pupils slightly dilated from arousal.

"What's wrong, Jaskier?"

He couldn't help the smile tugging the corners of his lips. 

"I want to try something new." That earned him a cocked eyebrow and a quiet, curious hum. He couldn't help touching that beautiful face. He'd always found Geralt beautiful, though he'd never offend the Witcher's pride by saying it, at least in public.

"Do you trust me?"

"You're here and I'm naked." Jaskier sighed.

"I mean it, Geralt. Do you trust me? Really trust me?"

"That's an odd question for someone who wants to fuck." 

Beautiful blue eyes locked to glorious golden ones. For once, the bard did not speak, just stared into those eyes. Was the little brunette really staring down the White Wolf? Yes, yes he was. 

"Jaskier ..." Geralt averted his gaze, grunted, and then locked on to those ocean eyes once more.

"Yes, I trust you."

Having won a staring match with his big strong lover definitely increased Jaskier's confidence.

"Good." His smile was broad, and sincere. He pressed a quick kiss against his lover's mouth, and scooted out of the way before the larger man could grab him again. He picked up a length of rope, not the hard twisted kind, but something red which looked much softer. They had talked about using rope before, being tied up and immobile while the other had free reign, but this was the first actual introduction. Geralt had admitted he liked the fight when he was feeling frisky, and the small squirmy man definitely obliged him on that. He'd never been tied up during sex before, though, he didn't have the trust it would take to allow anyone to do that. But here they were, two terribly randy people, and a length of rope.

"You want me to tie you up?" Geralt asked, not terribly enthused, but ready to do so if it meant they could sate each other.

"No." Said Jaskier, softly. Geralt pointed to his chest, and Jaskier tossed a loop of rope over it. For a moment, the smaller man could see nothing but white hair, as the witcher stared at the blood red rope lying across his wrist. Jaskier held his breath a bit, wondering how this would go. Finally Geralt grunted:

"And what will you with me once you capture me, bard?" A small smile played at his lips. Jaskier took hold of the calloused hand with both of his, stepping into Geralt's space, pressing his hip against Geralt's manhood, and just barely touching his lips to the sensitive ear.

"Anything I like, Witcher." He whispered as he wrapped more cord around the wrist. The big man shuddered but did not move away. Jaskier pulled back and saw white lashes on those kissable cheeks. Geralt had his eyes closed, breathing a little faster. Keeping both hands on his lover, Jaskier moved behind him, taking the rope-wrapped right hand with. Geralt relaxed and let himself be manipulated by the bard. Jaskier pulled Geralt's left hand down to his right, and Geralt had to remind himself to allow it. As the ropes wrapped around his wrists, he laced his fingers together, keeping space so he could get out of the ropes. He swiftly felt fingers in between his hands, unlacing his own digits.

"Oh, no no no, my sweet, that's cheating."

He grunted a protest, as much at the reprimand as at the affectation of "my sweet", but the only other thing he could do with his hands was make loose fists. He had expected the ropes to be tight, biting and uncomfortable, as they were the few times he'd been captured and tied up. But though they were obvious, they were not uncomfortable. Geralt tugged, testing the binding, and then pulled harder. There was a wicked giggle behind him.

"How many people have you tied up, Jaskier?"

"Well," Small, dexterous fingers danced across the muscled abdomen. "You're the biggest, love."

Those agile fingers moved back to manipulating the ropes.

"It's good rope, but you've wiggled a bit, and I'm not convinced it's enough." Said Jaskier, as he began to wind rope just under Geralt's elbows, then halfway up his upper arms. A slight tug and the burly man's shoulders rolled back, his back almost too straight, and he discovered his arms were useless, only the smallest movements were possible. The smaller man danced in front of him, and began to work rope across his chest. He watched in fascination as Jaskier twisted the rope, made knots, and re-positioned everything. Suddenly there were knots sitting over each of Geralt's nipples, a simple framework of rope down his body, and what was the artistic little bugger doing at his crotch? With practiced efficiency the bard tugged the rope and wrapped the ends around other bits of rope, securing the whole thing. At the pull of the rope, Geralt knew what the smaller man had been doing, as the knot at the base of his horn dug in a bit, and he groaned with the unexpected pleasure of the sensation. 

"Like that, do you?" Teased Jaskier, as nimble fingers played with the knots, causing startlingly gratifying sensations in both nipples and cock. Geralt was moaning now, precum leaking, and actually weak at the knees! Jaskier pushed him sideways, to topple onto the bed, and joined him with a slightly evil grin.

The giant of a man was calm, relaxed in a way Jaskier had never seen him, but that was often the effect of a good binding. The engorged cock twitching between his legs was almost the only clue that the white-haired warrior was not asleep, and the dark-haired poet felt his own cock twitch. He touched Geralt's cheek tenderly.

"My sweet wolf."

"Sweet?" Grunted the otherwise still man.

"Look at me, gorgeous." Geralt slowly opened his yellow eyes, and met Jaskier's blue gaze. 

"You are my sweet, beautiful boy; and I'll not hear otherwise from you. Understand?"

Geralt blinked, trussed, unwilling or unable to move, staring into eyes filled with love for him. He didn't think he'd ever understand, but under this spell of rope, and the emotions it somehow released; what could he do but agree? He nodded his head the slightest bit, and was rewarded with a gentle hand on his cock. He moaned and flushed as it twitched against the soft palm.

"Say it, Geralt. You are my sweet, beautiful boy." The hand began to stroke, almost painfully slow. He opened his mouth and nothing came out but a gasp. "Say it."

"I ..." The thought ran contrary to everything he thought he was. He couldn't say it. But that hand on his cock was intoxicating, every sensation repeated and intensified by the knot at it's base. He groaned again, started bucking his hips, but the fingers knew how to play him as well they knew how to play the lute; keeping rhythm, keeping the pace maddeningly slow. He felt the bard's breath move the hair by his ear as he whispered:

"I'll give you release, but only after you admit who are. Tell me, Geralt, who are you?"

Geralt couldn't take it any longer. He was ready to pop; too ready, in fact. It would have already happened, he just needed a stroke or two, but of course he couldn't reach it with his hands bound behind his back. He didn't know if the bard was still speaking, or if the words were just echoing in his head. "Say it. Who are you? Say it." A gasp, almost sounding like a sob, came from his mouth when he opened his lips again.

"I'm your sweet, beautiful boy." The pace of the stroking immediately quickened, and even as the world exploded, he heard Jaskier's voice, pleased and proud.

"Yes you are, my darling."

.......

Groggy in the aftermath, he felt nimble fingers removing the ropes, and grunted as the knot was removed from below. 

"What about you?" He mumbled.

"Oh, you'll pay me back later, sweet wolf." The bard chuckled. "Right now you look completely exhausted." The knots brushed his nipples as they were removed, and he grunted again. "I'm just going to untie you so you can rest." Geralt felt sleep creeping up on him, and was out before all the ropes were off. Jaskier helped re-position the big man and put his new friend; the soft, red rope away. He was sure he would need it again, and was also eager for Geralt to "pay him back". The beefy man had rolled over, and Jaskier happily curled up behind him, one arm over Geralt, their hair making dark and silver streaks atop of the bard's head.


End file.
